Pvt. Chauncey Goodrich's Report from the
Lake George Tactical 2001

Click on a thumbnail to see the picture in full.  Many thanks to Craig Floyd for most of these pictures.
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My sincere apologies for the lateness of getting this report to you. October was a busy month, and so I am only now getting down to writing.  The report is lengthy, but it was a week on the Lake, after all!

The Lake George Tactical officially began MOnday the 8th of Oct. but a small number of people showed up as early as Saturday in order to make an early start Sunday, set up camp, and be fully prepared for Monday morning.  The weather report indicated rain and freezing temperatures at night, and so many postponed their arrival on the Lake until Sunday.  Amongst those there Saturday were three members of the British Command Staff, including Lake Commander Captain Nehemiah (Craig) Floyd, Weasel (Steve Topliff, there as Sgt. Jonathon Whitcomb), and THE Wade Stoner. Also there as an advisory capacity was as Mark Miller, up from Maryland.  I first met Wade Stoner as we began canoing northward, and I will say, I was astonished to meet him. I had heard stories about his many years and his famous exploits on the Lake, not the least of which was how each year he crept into the French and Native camps at night and killed them in their sleep. His exploits were indeed reknown!! When I heard that the man alone in the canoe to my right was Wade Stoner, I could only say, "THE Wade Stoner?"

The command staff aimed for the camp we had last year, which included a small fortification we had named Fort Bear Necessity after our encounter with black bears the year before, and we spent time repairing the walls and fortifying it with swivels the Captain brought with him.

The Major (L) and Mark Miller (R) setting up camp.

Sunday, the remaining two of the British Command Staff, Major Mike Fitzgerald and Sgt. Paul Stevens arrived with Travis and Alec.  Travis was with Paul in a canoe, and with the winds at their back, Travis rigged a bit of a sail and they made it to the designated site in about half an hour.  It normally takes twice times that long to row with normal winds! 

The Major and Alec were walking in, but because they couldn't see Travis and Paul in the canoe while they were walking, which typically you can do at intervals, they were concerned that the winds had tipped the canoe. So they hustled back to the launch site to try to find Paul and Travis. Not finding any sign of either them or the canoe, the Major and Alec walked in a panic to the British camp site and found them there helping with the work, having been there for a couple of hours!  Craig V. also walked in Sunday afternoon.

I arrived Sunday evening to rendezvous with Jay, Ian, and Dan at the canoe launch site, where we would spend the night.  This was the first time up for Jay and Ian, and Dan had not been in a couple of years. Dan was the last one to get there and had been getting news about our government attacking some place far away in retaliation for an attack on our soil; this news should have interested us but something about being there at the Lake, getting ready for battle with the French and Indians in the late 1750s, made all outside cares and concerns unreal. The smell of the smoke from our fire and the sounds of the wind in the pines started working it's magic on us, and the rest of the world was on hold as far as we were concerned. 

Sunday was the coldest night, and while Monday was cold, the temperature rose each day and so the nights were warmer also.  As you read on, you'll see in the pictures how everyone was well-padded in layers of wool to begin with and then shed layers as time went by.  We had clear skies every day, no rain, beautiful clear nights...  As I say, we were lucky.  Also, the fall colors were still good, a bit past their peak but still colorful.

Chauncey and Dan canoeing in

Dan, Jay, Ian and I canoed in on Monday morning, with mostly favorable winds. We were told to go last year's camp and expect to find someone who would tell us where this year's camp would be, but when we got there we saw neither flag nor person.  We pulled in to shore and because I was the only one who knew the location, I walked around to find someone, and eventually saw Paul near the fort.  I went back for the others and we brought the canoes up on shore, then pitched our tents.  Most of us had to pitch tents outside the fort walls, as several tarps were already set up inside the walls.  I just threw my stuff in between Alec and Paul, who were sharing a tent, with the sole purpose of making sure that I stayed warm at night by having my bedroll between two human furnaces.  Paul had to warn me, though, that he was very sick and would probably keep me awake with his coughing.  We spent the afternoon on watch or sweeping the area.

Mark, Wade, Craig, Alec, and Travis had gone on a scouting expedition that morning.  They were trekking along well north of our camp when they came upon two Frenchmen landing a boat.  They fired on the enemy, and then behind them the entire cliff lit up, as anywhere from 8 to 13 flintlocks fired on them from above.  They were chased by Indians but found some high ground and waited.   Their patience paid off, as they were able to kill four of the Indians.  Amongst the Indians were three from Tennessee who for some reason were dressed in green as Rangers.  After that, our men went north again through the woods and down around the Indians, then walked right into a French camp.  They weren't seen, however, so they backed out and came home to our camp at about nightfall.

Dinner for me consisted of one of my personal favourites, boiled dried corn and walnuts, with a bit of sausage (buffalo summer sausage, compliments of Capt. Floyd) thrown in for flavor.  Quick, easy, light-weight to carry, delicious.  Taught to me by a trekking buddy.  A short while after dinner, maybe about 7:30, we thought we heard footsteps out in the woods and sent out a couple of scouts.  We thought perhaps it was Jonas, Eric and Joel coming in, as we were expecting them that night.   We definitely heard more crunching of branches out there, but as it turns out that they were from Ian trying to sweep the area in pitch darkness. Not as easy at it appears, as Ian was finding out for the first time.

Later that evening, as the moon was just rising, Paul woke me up saying he could hear heavy footsteps out in the woods, and about that time we heard sounds similar to those we had heard the year before.  Paul and I were convinced it was two bears out on the road, with another possibly coming near us.  We got up and went into the fort, but everyone else thought the sound was just owls; possibly, but that is just what bears sound like, hooting owls (except for the young ones when excited, which sound like monkeys).  The sounds moved on down the road to the south and we all settled down again. 

Since the moon was up by then, we posted guards and I volunteered for the first watch, since I was already awake.  Unlike last year when we were awakened at midnight by swivel guns and war hoops, the enemy was quiet.  I heard only branches falling, mice a-twittering, and the lake lapping the shore. The sky was clear, and the moon and stars were so bright. The time during my watch in the wee hours after midnight flew by while I listened intently for the sound of footfalls (man or beast).   I woke up Jay after my watch was done and finally went back to sleep.

Early the next morning, as the Major was at the outer wall, three people approached and when they didn't respond to the his request for the password, he fired over them.  Well, those men happened to be the missing Jonas, Eric, and Joel, who had indeed come in the previous evening about 10:30 before we set up a watch, but they were on the far edge of our area and couldn't find us so slept near the remains of an older British fort.

That morning, Alec led a number of us on a morning scout, leaving the bulk of our forces back at camp. Unfortunately, we didn't find the enemy anywhere. The first question from Mark Miller when we returned was, "Have any scalps?" And because he was with us last year, he knows we never dropped hammer last year except in trying to draw out the French. So you can imagine how I felt walking back into camp early in the afternoon, having seen not even one of the enemy all last year and then thinking I was going to have the same bad luck this year.  I was really disappointed, especially after hearing about the previous' days run-ins.  Another team went out on scout when we returned early in the afternoon, but they too found no one.  It seems the French were hiding from us!

While we were out in the morning (and late getting back), everyone else had been on guard or attending to the camp. I have to say that our Lake Commander, Nehemiah (Craig) Floyd, was very conscientious all week about his people, making sure everyone got their meals and their rest, that everyone rotated guard duties and time out on scouts, making sure everyone had a fair number of chances to go on scout, and otherwise were helping out. We all worked hard but it was a lot of fun, and I thank him and the Major for their care and concern for everyone.

The team that went out Tuesday afternoon consisted of Sgt. Whitcomb (Weasel), Mark Miller, Alec again, Sgt. Paul Stevens, Jonas, Joel, Eric, and Travis. While they were scouting up high on the hill, they were ambushed by some Massachusetts provincials, who, like us, had not found any French or Indians to fight against.  So they fired on the Ranger scouting party instead of the enemy.  The two groups then joined up and continued scouting together to find the real enemy. They returned to camp together early in the evening. The Mass. provincial boys chose to camp some distance from us, rather than in or near the fort, and could be heard in the night scouting the area...which they said is 'what they do.'

Jay and Ian heading down the cliff.

On Wednesday, the majority of us made an all-day foray, leaving behind enough men to guard the camp and man the swivels in the event of an attack on the camp. The Major and Sgt. Whitcomb led us to a place where we set up an ambush and waited. I'm not sure how long we waited, but while lying on the ground that early in the morning, I just got colder and colder.  I very slowly and quietly had to put on my mittens.  Eventually, several rangers encountered milice and an Indian.  Some of the enemy were killed, and a couple of us got hit.  Regrouping, we continued on north and soon came to an Indian camp on a small peninsula, which was well guarded at the neck by the Indians. We did not take any hits but we couldn't make any progress and had to back off.

Our party got split up at that point. The Major, Dan, and Travis remained down near the lake and, hiding on either side of the road, spent the rest of the morning popping any of the enemy who were wandering that route.

Meanwhile, Weasel led the rest of us upwards. We climbed up to meet what we thought were oncoming French, going high up the mountain and then back down along the steep cliff face. At one point near the cliff, we stopped briefly at a stream to refill our canteens and take off our coats, as the day was warming up (thanks in part to the climb). Something about the trickling water made the Rangers feel the need to imitate it and I was suddenly presented with everyone's backsides!! When Nature calls, the Rangers answer!!

From there, we headed downward alongside the cliff face. This is a somewhat treacherous route, barely a path down loose stones and in some places was very steep (as in the picture left) with very little room for feet and plenty of opportunity for turned ankles.  Several of us nearly lost our footing going down. We rested at the bottom of that path.

I could tell we weren't the first people there that week as I noticed a few stones already overturned.  I would guess that because the cliffs block a straight north-south route across most of the mountainside, this path was used fairly regularly, and very possibly had been used by the real Rogers' Rangers and their enemies 245 years ago!

We came down on the north side of the French camps and hit one of the regular's and milice camps. Sgt. Whitcomb, knowing Jay, Ian and I had yet to fire on the French, brought us to the front and let us fire the first shots.  They didn't know we were there so it was pretty easy. I got my first two kills! Weasel feels I was actually too far away for real kills, and that's a fair point, but they were standing still, out in the open, and they admitted I got them.  Good enough for me!!  Apparently, one of the people I shot was Deb Goodman, who had injured her hand and was there with other sick and injured.  We found that out later, of course.

We went back down to the Indian camp again, when we finally did some damage. It was there that we heard one Indian calling, "Give us Chauncey and we'll let you live!"  At first I thought I mis-heard and my ego was running away with me, but Jay confirmed it and he was right up close (so now my ego IS running away with me. Ah well, the name of Chauncey Goodrich is becoming known amongst the enemy! That was Gerry Cook, a good man, for an Indian. N.B. -- Gerry passed away unexpectedly Oct. '03.)   On our way back, sweeping the woods, we found two small parties of milice, which we dispatched quickly and efficiently (and I added a third to my tally for the week). Unfortunately, Jay broke his mainspring and was unable to participate, other than to go through the motions. Jay was my shooting companion all day, so this was a big loss to me when we ran into these two groups of milice. Jay was a tad miffed, to put it lightly, but I told him had a spare musket back at camp to lend him so he could be back game for the rest of the week.

We returned by way of the road.  As we walked, a Frenchman came out onto the road and said we were the only British he had seen so far.  Wonder where he had been!!  But he was sure to see us all again, as it turned out.  

On our way back near sunset, Alec made a pit stop while the rest of us walked on, and several muskets were heard firing (just being emptied).  When Alec emerged, he was sure the camp was under attack and he hid alongside the road to shoot at the enemy.  And he sat, and sat, and sat ... very patiently.  Meanwhile, the sun was setting, and everyone else was around the campfire eating dinner.  But where Alec was sitting, nothing happened.  An hour after first hiding by the road, Alec realized there probably was no enemy and he stumbled through the blackness within the woods until finally reaching camp, in time for the a last few drops from the good things going around.  But weren't we well guarded all that time!!

Dinner was fairly celebratory, as you can imagine. We passed around various bottles of Ping and lemon shrub, a canteen of wonderful butterscotch liqueur, and flasks full of all sorts of things.  And as it turned out, the Major had a spare mainspring and so Jay was able to repair his musket that evening. It was an early to bed for everyone, in preparation for big things to come.

We were all awakened at 3:00am Thursday morning, and by 3:30 a large party was heading north, half in canoes and half on foot.  Sgt. Stevens was able to go out, as he had been too sick for more than the one scout on Tuesday afternoon.  I was amongst those who stayed behind to guard the camp in case the French came south to find us and missed our men going north.  I would like to say I eagerly jumped up at 3:00 with everyone else but they had to drag me out of my bedroll.  During the wee hours of the morning, Craig V. sat on watch in his little hobbit-hole of a camp.

It took the men on foot a full hour to get to the rendezvous point for meeting up with the canoes.  From there they all went on foot for another hour and a half or so, all the while in the dark, which by day would take half that time.  At the French camp, they waited until just dawn to attack.  Apparently, the sentry (who was the same Frenchman we had seen on the road Wednesday who hadn't seen any Brits yet) had been mumbling about seeing Brits most of the time during his watch so either didn't really see our Rangers or did but no one headed his crying wolf one more time.  Within 5 minutes of their arrival, it was all over, and the enemy were dead in their blankets and bedrolls.  (Read Ian's Journal for more.) Alec says that as they left the French camp, they paused to enjoy the glory of their victory and the sunrise over the lake.  The victors returned well before 8:00am, Mark carrying a British flag which had been captured two years earlier!

We quickly posted additional guards, expecting the enemy to retaliate, but by late into the morning it appeared they were not going to come south after all.  So, feeling there was no need to stay and wanting to leave on a high note, we fired the swivels, packed up, and moved out, some on foot and some in canoes.

The Captain treated us all to a glass of Port for lunch at a place nearby and we belatedly celebrated the Major's birthday with a large dessert and a candle.

Captain Floyd and Major Fitzgerald both say that this was the greatest route of the French in the history of the Lake George Tactical event. Huzzah to the King's men!!

Sorry more of you weren't there, but we'll see you there next year, yes?

YHOS, Pvt. Chauncey Goodrich Thanks to Alec Asten and Paul Stevens for their input. Back to the Lake George Tactical main page